


A Miscellany of Tumblr Prompts

by AVegetarianCannibal



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, possibly mild smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AVegetarianCannibal/pseuds/AVegetarianCannibal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herein lies a collection of my filled Tumblr prompts that didn't warrant individual Ao3 entries of their own. Although they're called chapters, these are all standalone thingies. They're here in no particular order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Butt You're a Work of Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post Season 3 Hannigram crack. Literally crack, in a way.

Prompt: “The paint’s supposed to go _where_?”

* * *

 

Hannibal was still in the middle of describing his plan when Will waved a hand to interrupt him.

“The paint’s supposed to go _where_?” he asked.

“On our buttocks,” Hannibal repeated.

Will nodded once, turning it over in his head. “That’s what I thought you said, but then I thought I had to be experiencing auditory hallucinations again.”

“The plan is quite simple,” Hannibal went on. He held up a ceramic bowl of thick, red paint, glossy and bright as fresh blood. “I made the tempera myself with finely ground minerals and doves’ eggs I found in a tree behind our cabin.”

The laughter bubbled up out of Will then, because of _course_ Hannibal made the paint himself. Of _course_ he climbed a tree and stole some bird’s eggs and crushed rocks like some kind of cannibal Martha Stewart on the lam. Will laughed until tears sprang to his eyes and he had to sit down for fear of falling down.

“Will?” Hannibal asked, setting aside his goddamn homemade dove tempera. His eyes were full of concern. “Will, are you all right?”

“No, I’m not all right,” Will said, winding down to a maniacal giggle. “My partner in crime or whatever the hell you are to me–my Murder Husband, according to Freddie Lounds–has just suggested we paint our asses for art.”

“I’m suggesting we do it for money,” Hannibal said. “I think it’s too obvious and strained to be true art.”

“Oh, well, as long as we’re not deluding ourselves,” Will said, rolling his eyes.

Hannibal sat in the chair across from him, and for a moment it was almost like they were having a session from days of old. But they weren’t in Hannibal’s office. They were in a borrowed cabin in the middle of the forest in Croatia, three months after Will had pitched them both into the Atlantic.

“We’re out of money for the time being,” Hannibal reminded him. “I have vast funds, but I dare not touch them so soon after our escape. I must arrange matters carefully so as to not raise the FBI’s suspicions. Killing and robbing people might also raise suspicions, as you can imagine.”

“And painting our ass cheeks is supposed to solve this problem…how?” Will prompted.

“Freddie Lounds proposed an ‘art’ project,” Hannibal started, careful to use air quotes where appaopriate, “featuring the painted buttocks of famous murderers.”

“You’ve been in touch with Freddie Lounds,” Will said, beyond shock by this point.

“Indirectly, yes.”

Will sighed. Why hadn’t he actually killed her when he had the chance? That she was still alive must be part of a design even he couldn’t fathom. “Go on,” he said.

“She’s calling it (M)Ass Murder,” Hannibal said. “The first M is in parentheses because it’s a play on words, you see–”

“Oh, you must _love_ that part,” Will interrupted.

Hannibal didn’t admit it, but his nervous glance away told Will everything he needed to know.

“Miss Lounds has wired a deposit of two thousand US dollars to a new account,” Hannibal said. “She had initially offered much more than that.”

“But that would raise suspicions,” Will guessed. “And yet, somehow, sending her our ass prints won’t?”

“By the time my carefully routed prints reach her doorstep, we will have moved on at least twice more,” Hannibal said.

Will rubbed his eyes. He rubbed his temples. He rubbed until he ran out of things on his head to rub.  They _did_ need to move on regardless, and needed money to do so. On the grand scale of messed-up shit he did with and for Hannibal, he figured painting his backside was actually on the lower end of things.

Will hauled himself out of his seat and began unbuckling his belt. “This better not stain,” he said.

Hannibal got to his feet at once and grabbed the tempera. “If it does, I assure you I will help scrub you clean.”

 _Well_ , Will thought, _at least there’s an upside_.


	2. A Close Shave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt sent to me: “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post Season 3.

Will looked all over the counter in his bathroom and couldn’t find them. He looked in the cabinets. He even looked in the trash bin, in the event he’d accidentally thrown them away. Had he not brought them back from the store? Perhaps they were in the car, fallen free of the grocery bag.

He went out to check under the seats and in the trunk. but the pack of razors he’d bought was nowhere to be found.

He was this close to going back to the store, but decided to check with Hannibal first. It seemed unlikely that Hannibal would deign to use disposable plastic razors, but Will didn’t really relish driving 15 miles back to the store at this time of night.

“Hannibal?” he called out from the foyer.

He pricked his ears and heard the shower running in Hannibal’s bathroom.

Neglecting to knock first, he turned the knob. “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”

There on the counter was most of the pack of razors, and there, beside them, with one foot on the seat of the toilet and the other firmly on the ground, was a very naked Hannibal.

Well, not _entirely_ naked. His crotch was covered in a thick layer of shaving foam.

Hannibal stared at him evenly. “It’s rude not to knock, Will.”

“I…I thought you were in the shower,” Will stammered. “I was just going to peek in and ask if you’d…if you’d seen my razors. What in the hell are you doing?”

“Performing a little personal maintenance, if you don’t mind,” Hannibal said with a dignified sniff.

“But… why?” Will asked, unable to take his eyes off the big mound of foam.

“Our relationship has been progressing,” Hannibal explained. “I supposed it might not be out of the question to expect things might next progress to the bedroom. If I’m wrong–”

“You’re not wrong,” Will hurried to say, snapping his gaze back up to meet Hannibal’s. “But you don’t need to shave your pubic hair on my behalf. I’m not shaving mine!”

“And you needn’t,” Hannibal reassured him. “It’s just that I’ve…”

Hannibal suddenly looked more than a bit shy as he trailed off.

“You’ve what?” Will gently prodded.

“I’ve gone gray,” Hannibal said.

Will waited for the rest of the confession, but nothing else came. That was the entirety of it. Will laughed. “Hannibal, my vain other half, the hair on your head is silver. The hair on your chest is salt and pepper. Did you think I’d mind finding snow in the basement?”

“It makes me feel old,” Hannibal admitted.

Will reached out and took the razor from his fingers. He picked up the nearest towel and got to work wiping off the shaving foam. Luckily, no actual shaving had started yet.

“If you’re feeling old,” Will started, “I know something that’ll make you feel young again…”


	3. Trust Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt sent to me was this: “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Season 1 era, I'd say.

“Would you ever consider performing minor surgery on someone, you know, under the table?”

“It hardly seems wise to perform surgery of any kind under a table,” Hannibal said. “Now, perhaps on top of a table…”

Will started to explain what he’d meant, but then he realized that Hannibal was joking in that dryly teasing way of his.

“Heh,” Will hehed. “It’s just that I have a very minor but rather delicate issue.”

“I could refer you to a trustworthy doctor,” Hannibal offered. “One who’s still actually practicing.”

“No, no, I have a thing about strangers touching me,” Will said. “I mean, I can deal with it if I have to, but… You’re the only one I trust to do this, really.”

Hannibal waved him back to his chair. “I’m quite flattered,” he said. “I know trust doesn’t come easily for you.”

To Hannibal’s surprise, Will didn’t sit back down, but instead began to unbuckle his belt.

“I should just show you,” Will said.

Hannibal swallowed and called on his years as a trained professional. He could be detached, clinical. It was, in fact, his default setting. But seeing Will now, pushing his khakis down around his knees and hooking his thumbs into the waist of his underwear…

“Well, here it is,” Will said with a shrug.

He turned around and tugged his boxers down far enough to show the top of his right hip, just above where the curve of his buttock began in earnest.

“What do you think?” Will asked.

“It looks fine,” Hannibal said, quickly clearing his throat when he heard how thick and reverent his voice sounded. “I don’t see any medical abnormality, that is.”

“Look closer,” Will said, motioning him over with a tilt of his head.

Hannibal did as he was told, crouching down on the floor behind Will. There it was. He could see it now. Peeking out from that alabaster skin and the fine fuzz that dusted it.

“It’s a birthmark,” Hannibal said.

“Aaand?” Will prompted him.

“It appears to be shaped like…”

“A cock and balls,” Will said. “I have an inch-long dong and balls on my ass.”

Hannibal traced the outline of it with his fingertips–clinically, of course– and found no raised edges. It was simply a dark pink patch of the same, smooth skin.

“It isn’t cancerous,” Hannibal said. “I see no need to remove it.”

Will pulled up his pants then, and dropped into his customary seat with an agitated air. Hannibal realized he was still crouching in front of him and got up, too, while he still could.

Will sighed. “When I was a cop, one of the rookies saw it in the shower and started calling me Hedwig! The nickname spread. You don’t even have to take off the whole thing–just enough that it doesn’t look like a penis anymore.”

“I _could_ do it,” Hannibal said, “but I advise against it.”

“For heaven’s sake, why!?”

“Because it’s a part of you,” Hannibal said simply. “I would no more desire to remove it than I would castrate Michelangelo’s David.”

“Well, _his_ dick’s in the right _place_ ,” Will snorted.

“Everything about you is in the right place,” Hannibal said before he could stop himself.

He held his breath, waiting for Will’s stunned or disgusted look, but Will didn’t even blush. The quiet reverence had gone right over his head. 

“Thanks for taking a look anyway,” Will said.

“My pleasure,” Hannibal said with all honesty. 


	4. The Faint of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was this: “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 1, after Tobias and Hannibal tussle in "Fromage."

“I feel like I’ve pulled you into my life,” Will said.

“I got here on my own,” Hannibal said. “But I appreciate the company.”

Will stayed with him while Jack, the cops and the EMTs trickled out the door. To Will’s surprise, they were eventually left alone with nothing but the faint sounds of the street outside to keep them company.

“Shouldn’t you… have gone to the hospital with them?” Will asked.

“You saw me in action just days ago,” Hannibal reminded him. “Have you already forgotten I’m a medical doctor?”

Will chuckled softly. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard doctors make the worst patients. That must be doubly true when they’re their own patients.”

“Nonsense,” Hannibal said lightly. “Physician, heal thyself.”

Hannibal reached for his med kit and pulled out a pair of scissors. When he reached for the cuff of his pant leg, Will stopped him.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“Tobias Budge gashed my leg badly enough for the patient to need stitches,” Hannibal said. “I’d like to tend to the wound before I try to drive home.”

“Okay first, I’ll call you a cab,” Will said. “I’d drive you myself but I rode over with Jack from Chordophone. Second, just take your pants off. Don’t ruin them.”

Hannibal blinked up at him, scissors still poised at his cuff. “If it wouldn’t make you uncomfortable for me to undress…”

Will just rolled his eyes.

He busied himself with perusing a stack of books to give Hannibal his privacy. In 20 or so minutes, Hannibal announced the task complete. Will heard the rustle of fabric as Hannibal started to dress again, then an odd mumble that didn’t quite sound like a sentence.

He turned back towards Hannibal and saw him swaying on his feet, trousers pulled up halfway to his knees. His face looked pale, his eyes glassy.

Will lunged forward just in time to catch Hannibal before he fell.

“You fainted…straight into my arms,“ Will said. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

He’d meant to say it jokingly–had said it jokingly–but Hannibal gazed up at him with such gratitude and affection that it made him wonder if Hannibal had interpreted it much more seriously.

Will pushed the thought out of his mind. Hannibal was woozy. That was all.

"I told you you should have gone to the hospital,” Will said, helping Hannibal back into his chair.

“I just stood up too quickly,” Hannibal said. “Thank you for catching me. You’ve been quite the hero today.”

The look of gratitude continued, bright-eyed and sweet, until Will had to look away under the weight of it. “I’ll… I’ll call you that cab now,” he mumbled, fumbling for his phone. “I’ll call us both one.”


	5. Hey, Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Will have competition for Hannibal's affections?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request was made for jealous Murder Husbands.

The setting:

* * *

The hotel in Funchal, Portugal was so picturesque that Will immediately understood why Hannibal had chosen it. Set in a lush botanical garden, with a view of the Praia Hermosa and the cliffs beyond, it looked like a painting he would have made himself.

“I feel like we should have chosen somewhere a little less high-end,” Will said quietly as they made their way to the front desk. “Less noticeable.”

“This isn’t especially high-end,” Hannibal said.

Will scoffed. “You and I have very different ideas of luxury, apparently.”

The bellhop, a young man with curly black hair pulled into a tidy knot at the nape of his neck, took their bags up to the room. He kept glancing back at Hannibal, Will noticed, smiling and chatting in a fairly even mix of English and Portuguese. Hannibal understood it all, of course, conversing so easily and amiably that Will felt a bit left out.

“Ring for me if you need anything at all,” the young man said directly to Hannibal. “Meu nome é David.” He didn’t look at Will at all as he brushed past him on his way back out.

Will knew from rude, and that was rude. “Well, at least the room is nice,” he said, trying to not to let his grumpiness show through.

“Yes, it is,” Hannibal agreed. “Let’s see what yours looks like.”

Will blinked, confused, watching after Hannibal as he pushed open the doors that led to a second bedroom. Oh. They were in a suite. A suite with two bedrooms. Two very separate bedrooms.

“No fireplace in yours, I’m afraid,” Hannibal said. “Would you like to switch? You can have this one.”

“It’s fine,” Will said, gritting his teeth through a smile.

************

Will unpacked in his room, annoyed at himself for feeling annoyed. He’d assumed that things between himself and Hannibal were leading to a one-bedroom sort of situation. All those meaningful glances, lingering touches. Will could think of at least two dozen times they’d nearly kissed since dragging each other out of the ocean. And Bedelia had said Hannibal was in love with him, hadn’t she? Well, she could have been screwing with him. Getting in one last twist of the knife.  "That’s what I get for assuming,“ Will mumbled to himself.

He put on a happier face and decided to invite Hannibal to dinner out on the town. However, when he left his room, he found that David had returned bearing a tray laden with food and drink.

“I ordered something for us,” Hannibal said. “I thought you might like to try the local fish.”

“That was thoughtful,” Will said. He turned to David and pointedly said, “Thank you for bringing it.”

When David finally looked at him, Will nodded his head toward the door.

“Will there be anything else?” David asked, turning his attention back to Hannibal.

“I think not,” Hannibal said, “but I’ll ring you if I think of something.”

“Please do,” David said in a low voice, all but winking at Hannibal.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Will grumbled under his breath.

******************

Will tossed and turned all night. Had he really misread things so badly with Hannibal? Perhaps those years apart had clouded his perceptions. Or perhaps Hannibal HAD been in love with him, but Will had waited too long to go to him. The only thing he could do was confront the situation head-on.

The next morning, he threw open his bedroom door, a dozen questions and declarations perched on the tip of his tongue, and saw David standing in the middle of the room.

Naked.

Just… naked.

100% nude. In the buff. _Au naturel_.

His thick black hair had been loosed from its ties and cascaded over his perfectly sculpted, perfectly freckled shoulders. Will had never taken particular note of any man’s ass, but David’s was infuriatingly perfect, too, like two halves of a succulent honeydew.

“Oh, hello,” David said casually.

Will didn’t reply and instead turned his attention to Hannibal, who was lounging in a chair by the window, sketchpad in hand.

“Good morning, Will,” Hannibal said. “I managed to convince David to pose for me.”

“Yes, I’m sure it took all your powers of persuasion,” Will snitted.

David shifted his position. “Would you prefer if… I stood like?” He arched his back and leaned his head back, showing off the line of his throat. “Este?”

“All right, that’s enough,” Will said. He plucked David’s clothes off the floor and began pushing them at him. “Get! Out! Now!”

He opened the door and shoved the still-naked young man through, then locked it between them.

Hannibal looked up from his sketchpad. “Will? Is something the matter?”

“Something the matter!” Will flailed. His arms flailed. His eyebrows flailed, he was quite sure. “ _Something the matter!_ Hannibal, that… that… _boy_ was practically hanging all over you!”

“He was standing across the room,” Hannibal said patiently. “He was modeling for me because you’ve made it clear that you don’t wish to.”

Will was about to unleash a string of arguments and cussing the likes of which would have set his dead grandmother’s ears afire with shame, but he managed to parse what Hannibal was saying just in time.

“Wait. When did I say I wouldn’t pose for you?” he asked.

Hannibal sniffed and went back to staring at his sketch. “It’s not so much that you _said_ it. It was a general attitude.”

“What attitude?” Will scoffed.

“A general attitude,” Hannibal repeated. “You just seemed… averse… to it.”

“Oh? Does this seem _averse_ to you now?” Will asked, and flung open his bathrobe to reveal his 100% naked body. “Does it, Hannibal? _Does it?_ ”

He threw the robe in Hannibal’s direction and was rewarded with a stunned stare. Will didn’t even care that he was still sporting morning wood. Hell, it was better that way! It was like his dick was flipping the bird at Hannibal.

When a minute passed in utter silence, Will started to feel horribly embarrassed. He could feel the flush creeping across his chest and into his face. Oh God. What had he done.

“Exquisite,” Hannibal finally said. “Beyond compare.”

“Even beyond David?” Will asked, feeling suddenly shy.

“Far beyond,” Hannibal said, sounding as if his mouth had suddenly gone dry.

“Then stop flirting with him,” Will said, petty and not even caring anymore.

“ _He_ was flirting with _me_ ,” Hannibal pointed out. “He was trying to get a bigger tip out of me.”

Will crossed the room, plucked the sketchpad out of Hannibal’s fingers, and slid into his lap. “First, I’m going to kiss you,” he announced. “And then we’re going to order room service–and have someone other than that hussy deliver it.”

“And then?” Hannibal asked.

“And then I’m moving my stuff into your room,” Will said.


	6. The Ladder Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anonymous request was made for Hannibal and Will, after Season 3, to revisit the infamous ladder in some way.

 

* * *

It was late when Hannibal tugged Will off the street and into a cave of a bookshop on the Rue de la Parcheminerie. A young woman behind the desk looked them up and down before saying in English, “We close in 20 minutes.”

“We won’t keep you even that long,” Hannibal said, and pulled Will by the hand through dangerously teetering stacks of books.

There was a flush to Hannibal’s cheeks, and a glint of mischief in his eyes that made Will laugh. “What’s so special about this place? What are you up to? ”

“Nothing is the answer to your first question,” Hannibal said, “and you’ll see is the answer to the second.”

Will shook his head, laughing again, and let himself be taken wherever his tour guide wanted.

They had eaten a mediocre meal and drunk middling wine at a little cafe overlooking the Seine. Everything about their trip to Paris on a material level had been surprisingly… normal? Humble? It was the best way to keep Jack and even Freddie looking for them, of course. Who would expect the Murder Husbands to take a room at a Holiday Inn in Paris, for crying out loud?

Hannibal steered him past a few lingering shoppers and into an unoccupied alcove deep inside the shop. The books were piled so thickly and so tightly that it was nearly impossible to tell where they began and the shelves ended.

 

 

“This will do nicely,” Hannibal announced.

Perhaps they’d had more wine than Will realized, judging by Hannibal’s playful mood.

“It’ll do for what?” Will asked, not seeing anything particularly special.

Suddenly, Hannibal stepped closer to him, nearly pressing their bodies together. Will reflexively took a step back, bumping into a ladder.

“That,” Hannibal said. “It will do for that.”

Hannibal was looking at him like he could eat him alive, which, he frankly could and nearly had. But Will had learned (thanks in part to Bedelia) that the hunger was more figurative and sated just as figuratively. Hannibal was also looking at him like he expected him to understand whatever this was.

“I’m sorry, I don’t get it,” Will said.

Hannibal pressed the palm of his hand to Will’s chest. “Something about the way you took a breath at dinner tonight, some unintentional moment, reminded me of the time I nearly pinned you to the ladder in my office, all those years ago. I had a sudden desire to see you that way again.”

“I… don’t remember that,” Will confessed.

“No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” Hannibal said. “You didn’t commit every passing glance to memory the way I did, in those days, because I already wished to keep you with me forever.”

“You’re such a sap,” Will said, but bowed his head so their noses were touching. “But I tell you what: first place we settle down for a while, we’ll be sure to get ourselves a ladder we’ll both remember.”


End file.
